Author: workdigital2701@gmail.com

A friend who owns a small farm on the Delhi border calls me to bring a large bag as we prepare to meet at a mutual friend’s place. He loads me with four kilos of ripe tomatoes, and I have to say “Stop” while others before and after me get parts of the rich harvest.

Tomatoes are aplenty and selling cheap this summer across India, and, as they say, there is a problem of plenty, thanks to crop rotation, hybrid seeds and nature’s bounty. Wholesale prices have crashed in many places, putting farmers in a state of distress, which has, in turn, blessed the country’s wholesale price index to benign territory.Retail prices vary between regions. As I write this, it is as high as Rs 90 a kg in Himachal Pradesh but only Rs 19 in Tamil Nadu and Rs 30 in Chennai. Others fall in the middle. Online retailers are selling it at around Rs to 25 a kg.

Less than a year ago, late in 2024, tomato prices had surged across India, to Rs 65 in Delhi and beyond Rs 100 in some places. By and large, tomato prices have been manic-depressive in recent years and farmers are a confused lot.

Wholesale prices in interior mandis range between Rs 7 and 27 a kilogram. Reports from Karnataka’s Kalaburgi said a few weeks ago that the price had dipped to as low as Rs 2 per kg and Rs 6 in Tamil Nadu’s Dharmapuri.Tomatoes are not the only vegetable crop that brings pain to farmers. I see potato farmers from across the Delhi border riding bullock carts from rural Uttar Pradesh to sell potatoes at Rs 8 a kg this month. In Bengal, wholesale prices of capsicum crashed to Rs 6 a kg, prompting government action to help farmers with a minimum support price (MSP) programme, a rare occurrence for vegetables in India. In Punjab, farmers sold capsicum at Rs 2 a kg last month, down from Rs 25 a year ago, and compared it to a free giveaway.

To cut the long story short, vegetable farmers in India do not enjoy the price support enjoyed by wheat, rice, pulses and oilseeds, and that results in gambles with nature and high-yielding variety seeds.The Amul story is part of Indian folklore now, with milk growing from scarcity to plenty. It was all thanks to a cooperative movement, combined with procurement prices and logistics for milk, which helped farmers prosper and consumers evolve from a struggle for mother’s milk substitutes to easily and cheaply available ice cream.

What we need now is a similar mechanism for vegetables. But that is not easy. Vegetables are perishable, like milk. Cold chain logistics are only just taking off in India, and they anyway add to the carrying costs of farmers, who are more often than not short of cash or staying power. They gamble with nature and unload their products at the best available price as soon as possible.I have seen recent reports of Tamil Nadu farmers throwing away unsold tomatoes because the price is not right. That brought back evocative memories of the European Union in the 1980s, when “butter mountains” and “wine lakes” became popular expressions, thanks to price support offered by European governments. Wastage of agricultural products was common. I never thought then that India, with its underfed millions, would reach that stage so soon.

Farm products, especially vegetables, can be erratic in supply, thanks to the vagaries of nature, such as unpredictable rains and pests and difficulties of transport and sales methods. What R.K. Narayan said of ‘God’s ways’ with crops in a Second World War short story about a rice trader rings even more true for vegetables: “His bounty was as unacceptable as his parsimony.”Can the government do something about this? The recent West Bengal example of capsicum and the Amul story give us some inspiration. However, the government has to worry about both the fiscal costs and storage logistics. Grain storage has been challenging enough. What we could do may be a market-making mechanism, in which state-supported cooperatives notionally buy and sell vegetables at a marginal profit. That cannot happen, however, if the consumption is too low, as there would be no takers for the produce. What the government can perhaps do is to blend easier credit facilities with what I would call “proxy pricing” – offering interest rate subventions of the kind offered to exporters and link it to credit for crop insurance. I am just doing some loud thinking here – with the idea that the government should now put experts on the job to fashion a new variant of the Green Revolution.

Can the government do something about this? The recent West Bengal example of capsicum and the Amul story give us some inspiration. However, the government has to worry about both the fiscal costs and storage logistics. Grain storage has been challenging enough. What we could do may be a market-making mechanism, in which state-supported cooperatives notionally buy and sell vegetables at a marginal profit. That cannot happen, however, if the consumption is too low, as there would be no takers for the produce. What the government can perhaps do is to blend easier credit facilities with what I would call “proxy pricing” – offering interest rate subventions of the kind offered to exporters and link it to credit for crop insurance. I am just doing some loud thinking here – with the idea that the government should now put experts on the job to fashion a new variant of the Green Revolution.

That the Turkey-Pakistan brotherhood runs deep is a fact amply underlined by the Turkish response to the recent military tensions between India and Pakistan. But what makes this alliance so strong is not just diplomacy, but history and tradition. Not only had the waning Ottoman Khilafat (or Caliphate) movement influenced the formation of Pakistan, but the shared tradition of the Hanafi school of Sunni Islam, culturality, and moderate Sufism is such that the two countries often fondly call each other ‘Kardeslers’, meaning “brothers” in Turkish.

The fact that both Turkey and Pakistan were also in the same ‘blocs’ during the Cold War era – the Baghdad Pact (later Regional Cooperation for Development, and then Economic Cooperation Organisation), the Central Treaty Organisation (CENTO), or even Organisation of Islamic Countries (OIC) and D-8 being examples – helped them geopolitically cement their underlying religio-cultural-historical connection. In 1951, Turkey and Pakistan signed the Treaty of Eternal Friendship. That led to Ankara progressively upping its support to Pakistan in all its wars with India. If the 1965 war saw Turkey supporting Pakistan diplomatically, by 1971, that had turned into material support as well in the form of aircraft assistance. Now, in the latest four-day conflict between the two countries, Turkey is believed to have supplied over 350 drones to Pakistan, along with military advisors and operatives to use the same. The mysterious landing of a Turkish C-130, followed by a visit by Lt Gen Yasar Kadioglu (Chief of Turkish Intelligence) in Pakistan days before Operation Sindoor, also raised suspicions. All this is in addition to the already signed deal to allow for upgrading of Pakistani F-16s at Turkish facilities and supply four stealth corvettes, 30 T129 ATAK helicopters, Kemankes cruise missiles, etc. The Pakistani Prime Minister, Shehbaz Sharif, has personally thanked the Turkish President, Recep Tayyip Erdogan, for his “strong support and unwavering solidarity” during the Indo-Pak conflict.

For the two countries, their once-rhetorical support for each other has now decidedly turned into a more strategic one. Just as Islamabad readily concurs with Ankara on Northern Cyprus and refuses to recognise the Armenian genocide, Ankara backs Islamabad on the plebiscite line on Kashmir as well as its bid to join the Nuclear Suppliers Group. But this is not a new shift by any measure. In his memoir, In the Line of Fire, former Pakistani President and dictator Pervez Musharaff fondly recounted how he spent his childhood in Ankara and “their [the people’s] very visible love and affection for Pakistan and Pakistanis”. It’s also worth noting how the Indian Embassy road in Ankara has been renamed Cinnah Caddesi, meaning Jinnah Avenue.It was Turkey’s oscillating and contradictory relationship of the ‘state’ with Islam that had inspired Muhammad Ali Jinnah  –  and Pervez Musharaff, decades later  –  to view the country as a model nation that Pakistan must emulate. However, both countries’ regressive slide towards puritanism has occurred almost in tandem  –  in Turkey with the rise of Recep Erdogan, and in Pakistan with the tightening of the vice-like grip of religious narratives. If a more secularist and progressive Kemal Mustapha Atatürk had inspired Pakistani leaders like Jinnah, Ayub, Yahya or even Musharaff, religious hardliners like Erdogan, who rail brazenly at the “West”, are the latest poster boys in Pakistan today.

Surely, the bitterly contested domestic politics of Turkey, with the Progressives in the opposition and the religious conservatives under Erdogan, has a role to play too. Both benefit much more from batting on behalf of a “brother muslim nation” like Pakistan. The sheer distance and relatively lower commercial angularities with India are not enough for it to prefer Delhi over Islamabad.

There are some things about life that we take for granted. Sometimes that list includes life itself, whether we realise it or not. On Wednesday, May 21, I boarded an Indigo flight from Delhi to Srinagar. Just another day in public life. Just another flight. I take my usual seat at 19F, at the emergency exit. Opting for that seat is an old habit.

I’m on autopilot, doing all the things I normally do on a flight. Forty-five minutes in the air. Halfway to our destination. Then, there is an announcement over the PA, asking us to fasten seatbelts. But there’s no turbulence. About five minutes later, we see lightning, clearly visible as it stabs through daylight. Now there is some turbulence, but it progresses rapidly. I realise this is not your regular turbulence. This is severe, the likes I’ve never experienced on my ‘frequent flyer miles’ before.

Not Your Usual Turbulence

The plane is scarily tilting to the right. I am acutely aware of this because I am seated on the right-hand side of the Airbus A321neo. I’m accustomed to planes banking for a variety of reasons, but this does not feel like a normal situation.It is not a series of bumps or jerks. The entire aircraft starts tilting precariously. We are hurtling down, seemingly to a sickening drop. Not a minute or two, I would say, at least ten terrifying minutes. Outside, all we can see are clouds, ripped apart by angry streaks of lightning and constant hail. My mind is racing.

Now there are other noises in the passenger cabin. Not the normal buzz of conversation or a meal service. No, now people are screaming. Praying. Chanting. Some are actually screeching. The wave of sound creates added tension and fear. I am conscious of passengers trying to film on their phones. But a voice – was it male? Female? Passenger? Flight attendant? I can’t remember. The voice says, ‘Stop filming’.My life doesn’t flash before me. Instead, I’m consumed by the thought that if something goes terribly wrong, I will miss the wedding in a few months of my only daughter. I think of my daughter, wife, stepdaughters, brothers, colleagues, friends. I think of what a tragedy it would be to leave them all behind, without the chance to say goodbye to any of them.

Sadness. The sadness is overwhelming. It is a deep, abiding sorrow for relationships and friendships that will not progress beyond this fraught afternoon.Yes, I am aware of how blessed my life has been. Perhaps – I honestly don’t know – it had something to do with going to a dingy lane in Kolkata in 1990, which housed the worldwide headquarters of a congregation of nuns. The setting was spartan, almost awkward: four tackily painted wooden stools set out on a verandah overlooking a quadrangle. My first meeting and touching the hand of Mother Teresa

So, what else ran through my mind? I didn’t think about politics. I didn’t think about Parliament. I didn’t think about the number of followers I had on X or Instagram. I was focused on the people I love. People who mean the world to me. People who have been an important part of my life.

I prayed to a higher being. I made a pact. A pact to be good. 


My colleague, a few seats away, had felt the tension too. We had battled our own fears in our ways. Bathed in perspiration, he looked as if he had just stepped out of a shower. At the time, I didn’t think to ask him what I looked like.It was probably thirty minutes before we landed. Before we touched down, a member of the cabin crew asked us to pull down our window shades, because we were landing at a military airfield. After taxing to a halt, the engines were switched off and everyone began to deplane.I didn’t follow. I remained seated. Alone. Why? I’m not sure. Perhaps to let it all sink in. Perhaps to process it all. Perhaps to decompress. I don’t know why exactly. But it gave me a chance to speak to the pilots before they left the aircraft. I thanked them on behalf of all the passengers and crew. The captain told me that it had been the most difficult flight in his forty-one years as a pilot. We kept speaking, but I promised him that the rest of our conversation would remain private forever. 

I only saw the damage to the nose when I deplaned. I still have no idea what that damage could have done, or the potential danger it posed to our collective safety.

I am home now. It’s been a week. I thought I’d dealt with it in my own way. But I was wrong.

“India has bled. We have paid a heavy price. We have been restrained in our responses. It was time that there was retaliation, but it was measured and calibrated,” Congress leader Anand Sharma said recently about India’s global outreach on Operation Sindoor. In saying that, the former Minister of State (MoS) for External Affairs was the latest to break ranks with the official Congress line, which has chosen to criticise the outreach as a “diversionary tactic”. This was significant, given that Sharma was among the original names furnished by the Congress – and the only one to be co-opted – in the official delegation.Coming after the public defiance of the Congress party by leaders such as Shashi Tharoor and Manish Tewari, who are part of the delegations themselves, it reflected the divergence between these leaders and the party’s official stance, represented by Leader of Opposition (LoP) Rahul Gandhi. Even as the Congress backed the government wholeheartedly when India’s strikes on Pakistan were on, it struck a discordant note following the ceasefire announcement, going as far as labelling External Affairs Minister S.

Jaishankar a ‘mukhbir’, meaning ‘informer’.The dissonance in the grand old party lays bare a larger ideological tug-of-war playing out between the increasingly Leftist posturing adopted by the party under Rahul Gandhi, and the contrarian position represented by Tharoor, Tewari and Anand Sharma. Even someone such as P Chidambaram has adopted a position similar to the trio’s in the wake of Operation Sindoor, diverging from his own United Progressive Alliance (UPA) government’s approach of strategic restraint that was exercised in the aftermath of the ghastly terrorist attacks in Mumbai in 2008. In fact, something from the 2019 Balakot strikes comes to mind: in the aftermath of that attack, Rahul’s close associate, Sam Pitroda, had boldly stated, “Attacks happen all the time. We could have reacted by sending our planes following the 2008 Mumbai attack, but that is not the right approach. Eight people come and do something – you don’t jump on the entire nation [Pakistan].” 

Today, the contrasting positions taken by Rahul and team and dyed-in-the-wool Nehruvians such as Tharoor, Tewari and Sharma on Operation Sindoor are essentially an extension of the rebellion the G-23 group of leaders had waged in 2020, calling for introspection and collective decision-making. That Tharoor, Tewari and Sharma were also a part of that team is no coincidence.We are the G-23, but definitely not Ji huzoor [yes-men] 23”, Kapil Sibal had famously declared at a press conference five years ago, before his outbursts eventually led him to chart an independent course. Sibal was referring to the increasing democratic deficit in the Congress, with the coterie surrounding Rahul Gandhi influencing policy decisions and yes-men such as KC Venugopal blindly implementing them.

The Congress has always been a liberal party with a big-tent approach, where its leaders constituted an ideological spectrum from the Left to the Centre-right. Of late, however, the party has taken a distinct Left turn, though whether that’s out of electoral pressures or a deeper ideological shift is another debate. In fact, Rahul had himself once claimed that the 1991 reforms ran its course by 2012. Regardless, the leftward tilt only seems to have eroded the middle-class base of the Congress over successive elections.

The radical turn could also be a reflection of the gradual withering of Left parties in India, with the larger Left ecosystem being on the lookout for a platform to articulate their politics, hijacking the Congress. 

It is well-known how Rahul is close to many Left-leaning intellectuals in Delhi. Congress has also seen an influx of young Left leaders in recent times. Beyond Kanhaiya Kumar, they include Rahul’s close aide Sandeep Singh, Shahnawaz Alam, Sudhanshu Bajpayee, Raghunandan Yadav, Sarita Patel – all formerly associated with the All India Students Association (AISA), the student wing of the Communist Party of India (Marxist-Leninist). Rahul’s bromance with the late Sitaram Yechury, the general secretary of the Communist Party of India (Marxist), was also legendary.

Recent developments in the US signal an intensifying confrontation between the Trump administration and American universities, particularly elite institutions such as Harvard and Columbia. This showdown reflects a broader shift in the federal government’s approach towards institutions of higher education, especially those that receive significant public funding but are perceived by the administration to operate with ideological bias or insufficient accountability.

At the heart of this unfolding battle is Harvard University, one of the oldest and most prestigious educational institutions in the country. The Trump administration has accused Harvard of failing to adequately protect Jewish students amid rising antisemitism on American campuses. In response, the administration has taken a series of aggressive steps: cutting $2.26 billion in federal funding to Harvard, threatening to impose taxes on its $53.8 billion endowment, and ordering a review – through the General Services Administration – of federal contracts worth approximately $9 billion. The decision to cancel $400 million in grants and contracts with Columbia University in March 2025 over similar concerns was among the first such moves.The most consequential development came when Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem ordered a halt to the enrollment of foreign students at Harvard. The administration claimed the university failed to comply with certain federal directives. Although a federal judge later blocked the administration’s attempt to limit Harvard’s ability to admit international students, the confrontation marked a turning point in challenging the autonomy of US educational institutions. Harvard has since filed two lawsuits against the government, preparing for a protracted legal battle. Legal analysts caution, however, that Harvard may not have an easy path forward, given the political climate and the administration’s hardened resolve.While the administration justifies these moves as necessary to confront antisemitism and restore accountability in higher education, many, including most Democrats, view them as part of a larger ideological assault against liberal academic institutions in the US. Underlying this clash is a broader shift in American political sentiment, especially in light of the war in Gaza and the October 7, 2023, Hamas attacks. The Israel-Palestine conflict has galvanised student protests across the US, particularly on campuses such as Columbia, Harvard, and the University of Pennsylvania, among others. Many younger Americans have expressed sympathy for Palestinians and frustration with US military and financial support for Israel – a stance sharply at odds with the pro-Israel consensus that has long dominated American foreign policy. In what appears to be a politically divided country, younger people in the US are today less likely to view Israel’s response in Gaza favourably. On the other hand, the rise of antisemitism since October 2023 has been unprecedented.

This generational divide has spilt into American politics, including the 2024 presidential race. The liberal camp’s vocal criticism of Israel influenced the voting patterns. Pennsylvania Governor Josh Shapiro, a Democrat with more centrist and traditionally pro-Israel views, was sidelined from serious presidential contention despite being considered a strong candidate by some within the party. The Biden administration, caught between ideological factions, was forced to scale back its unconditional support for Israel – choosing instead to temper military aid and increase oversight. This recalibration of the US vis-à-vis Israel invited a Republican angst that has characterised the second Trump administration’s policies, especially those on the home front

On May 9, the International Monetary Fund (IMF) approved the disbursement of another $1 billion to Pakistan under its latest Extended Fund Facility (EFF), reinstating Pakistan’s dependence on international bailouts. As a country with a high dependence on imported oil, whenever oil prices hike or international borrowing declines, Islamabad’s reserves take a further hit. Since 1958, whenever this occurs, Pakistan has approached the International Monetary Fund (IMF) for a bailout approximately every three years, seeking to save its economy under the condition of improving macroeconomic indicators. While the role of the IMF has been minimal in reforming Pakistan’s governance, its fund facilities have stabilised the economy from falling into the pit grave. However, the key question remains: have IMF bailouts inadvertently enabled an environment to facilitate terror financing? If so, should India try to block IMF funds to Pakistan? 

Contrary to popular imagination, the IMF’s role is distinct, and its programmes impose strict conditions that compel Islamabad to demonstrate some accountability in governance and economic management. And India needs an accountable Pakistan.While the IMF can serve as a platform for India to signal its displeasure and apply international diplomatic pressure following the Pahalgam attack on April 22 by alleged Pakistan-backed terrorists, a more effective route to achieving strategic objectives would be to target terror financing networks and financial opacity through the Financial Action Task Force (FATF), the global watchdog on money laundering and terror financing, where reports suggest India is already preparing to build a robust case against Pakistan.

Persistent macroeconomic imbalances have led to a state of massive public debt, with the country facing massive external debt repayment dues. The Pakistani economy has structural weaknesses, from a narrow tax base to low productivity. Islamabad is also extremely dependent on imported energy, with energy imports accounting for 20 to 40 % of total imports. Of the previous 25 IMF programmes, 15 were sought during times of oil crisis, caused due to energy import dependence. 

A worsening balance of payment crisis and periodic foreign exchange shortages have also emerged over time. For instance, in 2021-2023, foreign exchange reserves plummeted as low as about two weeks’ worth of imports, and inflation jumped to 38%. Pakistan’s performance in development indicators is also severely lacking. It ranks 109th out of 127 countries in the 2024 Global Hunger Index, with 40% of the population in poverty and public expenditure on health and education below 3% of the GDP in 2023. 

All these factors have led to Pakistan approaching the IMF 25 times since 1958, with the latest fund arrangement approved on September 25, 2024.  Corrective policies adopted under the IMF programmes have stabilised some economic conditions to a limited extent. Pakistan, with seven decades of cyclical debt accumulation with the IMF, was able to bring a modest recovery under these programmes. The economic growth rebounded to 2.4% from 0.6% in 2023, and inflation was brought to single digits from double-digit levels in 2025.  In the latest 37-month Extended Fund Facility (EFF) arrangement, which commenced in 2024, the key conditionalities of the IMF programme include implementing sound macroeconomic policies, such as rebuilding international reserve buffers, broadening the tax base, enhancing productivity and competitiveness, and reforming State-Owned Enterprises (SOEs). 

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